


Three's Allowed

by mermatee



Category: Sparks Nevada Marshal on Mars, The Thrilling Adventure Hour
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, OT3, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-21
Updated: 2014-10-21
Packaged: 2018-02-22 02:50:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2491736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mermatee/pseuds/mermatee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had always been the three of them, in one way or another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1.

“Thing is, Nevada”- Red burped discreetly into her fist- “Some folks never go away, not really.”

It had been at least a couple of weeks since Sparks had seen or even heard from her. Last he knew, she and Croach had gone on a sort of honeymoon (honeymoons?), having decided to give each other another chance. Having Red turn up at the Marshall's station and practically drag him to the saloon was enough to make him wonder if it really was Red, or another glitchy holoprogram. In fact, the main reason he agreed to go to the saloon was on the off chance that The Troubleshooter might be around. As it became increasingly obvious, he decided that this was, in fact, Red. She waved a lazy hand at Barkeep. 

“Barkeep, another space rotgut over here. Nevada, you're nursing that thing, what's up?”

“Oh. Nothin'. Just pacin' myself.” A thought occurred to him. “Hey, Red?”

“Mm?”

“Should you even be drinkin'? What with your nanotech-”

“Nah Nohtek, Nevada, get it right.”

“Yeah, that gross... thing. Doesn't drink... y'know. Stop it from working?”

“For a while. It's an accumulative effect.” Red shrugged, draining the last of the icewater mixed with heavily diluted rotgut. “Should be fine iffin' I keep myself out of trouble for a couple days.”

“Trouble?” Barkeep slid her drink over to her with a look of concern. 

“Not in this place, Barkeep.”

Sparks felt uneasy. 

“Yeah, but outside of this place... Red, you likely noticed this, but your life gets threatened kinda... well, a lot.”

Red simply took a sip of her drink. Sparks raised a finger. 

“And another for me, Barkeep.”

“That's the spirit.”

There was calm for a few seconds. The Saloon Doors remained quiet, Amos was presumably not conscious by this point, and Barkeep busied himself with polishing glasses. Red broke the silence after idly swirling her index finger in her drink. 

“You're wonderin' why I'm here.”

“No, I'm wonderin' why I'M here. Specifically, at, uh, your request.”

She sighed, and fiddled with the end of her braid, tracing circles on the back of her hand with it. 

“Me an' Croach... we had a fight.”

“Really? How co-” Sparks cleared his throat and tried again. “That's... bad. Why?”

“You, obviously.”

Sparks was not prepared for this. There were countless reasons, in his opinion, to argue with Croach, but even he admitted to not being one of them. 

“...OK.”

Red laughed and pushed her braid behind her shoulder. “Yeah, you could do with some context, huh?”

“That would help.”

“Well, we went out for a ride, I was thinkin' of some cavortin'-”

“Yeah, well, I didn't need to hear that.”

“Fine. Anyway, he starts askin' me if I think he's handsome, and I laughed.”

“Why?”

“Because it's such a weird thing for him to ask. He's so assured 'bout what he thinks, this is a fella who keeps a league of despondent feelins. He's all “This is the thirty second most amorous you have been toward me” and “This is the third most effective way you done touched my egg sacs-”

“-gross.”

“Oh, like you ain't touched 'em.”

“Yeah, to avoid gettin' shot.”

Red raised an eyebrow. “You sure that was it?”

“Yeah, I'm pretty sure, keepin' in mind how often I have to tell Croach not to talk about it. It was gross.”

“Well. Anyway, there was this one time you both defeated some aliens and Croach was tryin' to make a distinction between him and them.”

“Wait, were these science aliens or technology aliens? Turns out they ain't the same thing.”

“Don't know, don't care. Anyway, Croach pointed out that they were kinda cute and fluffy, and he was handsome?”

“Doesn't ring a bell.”  
“Well, it did for him. He reckons you didn't confirm his status as handsome.”

“Wait, and that's what you fought over?”

Red scratched under the brim of her hat. “Kinda.”

“What do you mean, kinda? You're sayin' you dragged me here-”

“-oh like you weren't on your way here anyway-”

“- because your boy... man.... marjun friend is worried I don't think he's handsome?”

“That's an over simplification, Nevada.” Red drained the last of her drink and gestured to Barkeep (trying, and failing to make it look like he wasn't eavesdropping) for another.

“Tell you what, Barkeep, just leave the bottle.” Sparks shoved a handful of notes at the man. Red arched an eyebrow. 

“So what you drinkin' to forget, Nevada? Ginny not around?”

“She's a busy woman.”

“I'll bet.” Red topped up his glass. 

“Hey, this ain't about me. You drag me here-”

“Oh, like-”

“Yeah, you said that. Is this really about Croach needin' my approval?”

“Kinda. I don't know, Nevada, it just feels like me an' Croach... we could move halfway across the galaxy and it'd still be me, you and him.”

“What, because you've been... uh.. cowpokin'-”

“- now THAT'S gross”

“- with both of us? Red, that's your problem, not mine. You still got feelings for me?”

Red gave a glazed stare at a neon sign for a few moments. “It's never gonna be a no, is it?”

“Red, I have no idea what you want to happen here.”

“Me neither. Hey, Sparkles?”

“Yeah... don't call me that.”

She chuckled and filled another glass. 

“What was she like?”

“What, Ginny? Well, you met her, so-”

“No, not Ginny. Rebecca.”

“...again, you met her.”

“Not in bed, I didn't.”

“OK, this is weird.”

“No it ain't.”

“You really want to know what my ex was like in bed.”

“Sure.”

“Why?”

“I dunno. Just makin' conversation.”

“Intense. Why, what's Croach like- actually, don't answer that.”

“Also intense. Probably in a different way though.”

“Gross.”

“Man's got two tongues, can't argue with that.”

“Also gross. Red, I have to go.”

Red looked back at him, all dark eyes and flushed skin and he just couldn't stand up. That, or it was the space rotgut. 

Red stared at her lap. “M'sorry Nevada. I know this was dumb, I just-” 

Then silence. 

“I'll go now. I'll go find Croach.”

Sparks stood up, finally. A pang of dizziness hit him. He could only imagine how Red would get back to wherever she currently called home. 

“Naw, Red, c'mon.”

“What? I'll be fine, just gotta ride to the-”

“Yeah, and your nanotech? What if you get ambushed?”

Silence. 

“Red. Come on. There's a space futon at the Marshall's Station.”

“A space futon?”

“Well, on Earth-”

“-where you're.... from”

“Yeah, they're just futons. Probably space futons up here. Anyway, come back to the station, you can sleep off the worst of it there and I can get Croach tomorrow.”

Red wiped her face with the back of her hand. 

“He's sweet.”

“..yeah."


	2. 2.

“Sparks Nevada, am I to assume that you have been imbibing alcoholic beverages?”

Sparks' eyelids creaked open. His body felt as though the gravity had been increased, and his mouth was as dry as the crimson plains. 

It seemed like an average, if hungover morning. Croach had moved to the kitchen, where he was currently making a lot of aggressive noises with the crockery. With a mammoth effort, he tried to force himself to sit up, only to freeze at the tug around his waist. 

Lying there, with her arm across his stomach, her clothes removed, but her hat inexplicably still on, was Red. Sparks could do nothing but slump back down on the (space?) futon and consider exactly how screwed he was at this point in time. 

He needed to get up. He needed to get up, apologise to Croach, put himself under onus, anything. He needed to get Red to leave until he could truly think about his feelings. He needed to do all that paperwork he had left yesterday when she showed up. He forced his eyelids open once again, and found Croach hovering above him, holding a plate of eggs (that presumably weren't his). Sparks sat up, not waking Red, and his head spun. 

“Croach, look, I-”

“I have made breakfast, Sparks Nevada.” Croach lowered the heavy plate into his lap. “I have made enough so that the Red Plains Rider might also consume part of the meal.”

“Croach, how did you-”

“I sensed with four of my twenty eight senses that The Red Plains Rider was unable to protect herself.”

“But I could pro-”

“Sparks Nevada, you smell strongly of the beverage designated gutrot, and your ability to protect The Red Plains Rider would have been compromised.”

Red began to shift slowly next to him, and her eyelids slowly cracked open. She stared dully with tired eyes until she realised where she was. Her eyes rested on Croach, then her around around Sparks' waist. 

“...Croach.”

“The Red Plains Rider, I have prepared breakfast.”

“Croach, I-”

“The Red Plains Rider, consuming the meal designated breakfast will aid your Nah Nohtek in its recovery.”

Croach placed the plate in Sparks' lap, gave a sad nod (no, not sad; he didn't have emotions, remember?) and left the Marshall's station. Red pressed her face into the pillow. 

“We messed up, Nevada.”

Sparks wasn't used to losing his temper. He generally approached everything with a level of bored indifference or bureaucratic loyalty. On this particular occasion, however, he flung the plate in his lap at the wall. 

“What the-”

“We didn't mess up, Red. You did.”

Red sat up, pulling the blanket around her chest. She was exhausted, her eyes were bloodshot, and she stank of the same downfall that had claimed Sparks, but still looked just as capable of knocking Sparks down several pegs. 

“Oh what, Nevada? I forced you into what we did? You had no part in it?”

“Well, yeah, but-”

Red buried her face in blanket. “Please take that plate someplace else, the smell of eggs is making me feel like pukin'.”

And Sparks had no choice. He gathered up the shards of plate, and the scattering of eggs, emptied it into the trash, and walked outside, ignoring the synthetically cheery “The station doors are open”. Croach, as he assumed, was sat on the steps. 

“Mind if I sit here?”

“I lack the human capability to mind, Sparks Nevada.”

Sparks took a seat, after a failed attempt in which he probably bruised himself on the corner of the steps. 

“How'd you really feel, Croach?”

“I could ask the same of you, Sparks Nevada.”

“Yeah, well, I'm askin' you. Even though I feel like there's a nest of giant spiders in my head.”

Croach turned his face towards him, and Sparks realised, for the first time in so long that, if you looked hard enough, his face could express the emotions he claimed not to have. It was hard; he didn't exactly have human lips, and his eyes were just large, black, impossible to read. Or so he thought, except occasionally, just occasionally, he saw glints of light, like sporadic comet bugs, in them. And now, he could see that Croach hurt. 

“I'm sorry, Croach.”

“You do not know what you are sorry for, Sparks Nevada.”

“So why don't you tell me? I thought I was sorry for doin'... things to your girl, but-”

“That is the problem, Sparks Nevada. I cannot define the lines between your girl and my girl, or even Sparks Nevada and Croach the Tracker.”

Sparks sat, stupefied. 

“Not gonna lie Croach, this doesn't sound like you.”

Croach rubbed a spot near his left antenna. 

“Did The Red Plains Rider eat some-”

“No, she's too hungover.”

“But her-”

“Yeah, Nah Nohtek. She don't care. She's pretty pissed at me right now.”

“I appreciate your first correct designation of our Nah Nohtek.”

“Oh. Right. Look, Croach, I did a bad thing. I'm sorry. Hey, you listening?”

Croach looked resolutely at the ground. 

“Red mentioned that the two of you had a disagreement.”

“It could be designated a disagreement, that is true.”

“About me.”

“Ha. Ha. Sparks Nevada, your confidence in your ability to affect the relationship between myself and The Red Plains Rider would split my sides with mirth, were I Jehkhen the Mirthful-”

“Croach, I don't know every member of your tribe, but I'm pretty sure that ain't a real guy.”

“Jehkhen the Mirthful is a female, kindly do not misdesignate her gender.”

Sparks ran his fingers through his untidy hair. “Croach, can we please talk about this?”

“I am under onus to you, Sparks Nevada, for not realising that you wish to discuss matters of our relationship, given your past-”

“OK, Croach, I'm going to lay it down, and by down, I mean on the ground. I love Red. You love Red. You and me, we got some sort of thing goin', I mean, I don't count the whole thing with the egg sacs, bein' that we were under duress at the time, but you know there's more goin' on that one guy and one marjun fightin' over one... Red.”

“You mean to say that you have romantic feelings for me, Sparks Nevada.”

“What? No. Kinda. Maybe. Look, Croach, this is a messed up situation. Even you get that, right?”

Croach gave a haughty sniff, which was odd for a being with out what would commonly be described as a nose. 

“Sparks Nevada-”

“Croach, drop it. Just tell me. What do we do here? I'm out of ideas. I love Red, you love Red, we've got this whole love hate thing-”

“Impossible. Love and hate are oppos-”

“Croach, can I kiss you?”

All twenty eight of Croach's senses seemed to fail at that point. 

“Ridiculous. My feet are covered-”

“So uncover 'em.”

“I am with The Red-”

“Who I, and I'm sorry about this, got with last night. Honestly Croach, I'm probably still drunk from last night, but truly, the only thing stoppin' all three of us from bein' happy is you and me.”

“Actually, it appears to be more attributed to your copulating with The Red-”

“Which wouldn't happen if we could all get on.”

“You are suggesting a relationship containing all three of us.”

“Well, maybe. None of us knows what they want. So let's start figuring it out.” Sparks shrugged. “I'm gonna go brush my teeth. You check on Red. Then, I guess we all need to talk.”

As he walked away, Croach's twenty eight senses did nothing to help him.


	3. 3.

There was a time in Sparks' childhood after a huge argument between his parents. The next morning, he had sat, unsure about what to say, while his mother glared at his father. It seemed out of character for her. 

A similar feeling hit him now, as Red dejectedly gulped down a bottle of water and Croach silently gazed at the window. For the first time, Sparks noticed... well, actual sparks in Croach's usually unreadable dark eyes. They were subtle, and glinted violet and green. Croach's eyes, while apparently large, black and featureless, were curiously beautiful, like polished geodes. Sparks rubbed his own tired eyes and cleared his throat. 

“So, this is a weird situation.”

“Shut up, Nevada.” Red took another sip from her bottle of water. 

“Sparks Nevada is correct, this is an unusual situation that most would designate weird-”

“You shut up too, Croach.”

Croach fell silent and stared at his lap. Red sighed. 

“Blue One, I'm sorry-”

“I have never enjoyed the misdesignation Blue One.”

“Why didn't you say so?”

Croach clutched the seat of his chair for a moment, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“Because I believe it was intended as what humans believe to be a pet name.”

“It was.”

“I am not a pet, The Red Plains Rider. And I am Croach the Tracker, not Blue One.”

Red wiped her face with the back of her hand. “I didn't know you hated it that much.”

Sparks was still unsure as to how a being with no eyebrows could frown, but Croach managed it. 

 

“Your infidelity with the human designated Sparks Nevada has caused me to feel an emotion I do not care to name, but I also do not enjoy witnessing the human act of crying.”

Croach got up, and cautiously placed a hand on Red's shoulder. 

“The Red Plains- Red One?”

Red forced herself to look at Croach. 

“Is this infidelity your way of moving the metaphorical sports ball?”

It was at this point that Sparks couldn't help but laugh. Unfortunately, he had a mouthful of coffee at the time, which was promptly ejected over the table. Red scowled at him. 

“Nevada, we're havin' a moment and you go spittin' coffee all over the place? You think this is funny, Nevada?”

Sparks was still choking on his coffee when Croach dragged him out of his seat and started pounding his back unnecessarily hard. 

“Sparks Nevada, are you-”

“Croach, I'm fine. I'm sorry. It's just still funny hearin' you use metaphors-”

“But you are able to breathe?”

“Yeah, I am now.”

Croach took a seat. 

“The Red Plains Rider-”

“For the last time Croach, you can just call me Red”

“That is not your complete designation. But my question stands; would you be happier with Sparks Nevada?”

Sparks scratched at a chipped part of the table, not sure where to look. 

“No.”

Sparks felt a jolt of surprise, confusion, something he couldn't even name. Red sighed and put her water bottle down with trembling hands. 

“Croach, you've always been good to me. And I always want you in my life. I'm just so tired of having to pick between you an' Nevada. It's like that's all I do; I go back an' forth between you two like your dumb metaphorical sports ball, and sometimes I don't even remember who I am; I'm Nevada's girl, or The Human Designated The Red Plains Rider, and it's not like anyone appreciates who I am, not really. I'm human. I was raised Martian. I had a husband, I have Nah Notek, I was a Jupe incubator-”

“As was I-”

“Yeah, Croach, I remember. And I just don't get it. Keepin' all that in mind, the logical thing would be to just spend some time on my own. Just be me. But I can't shake either of you off. It's messed up, but I can't. I love Croach, I have for years. And I love Nevada, although for.... fewer years, I guess.”

“Yeah, don't give me that look, Croach” muttered Sparks as Croach gave was was possibly the most despondent smirk in the history of the universe.

There was a brief silence. Even the Marshal Station doors were quiet. It took a lot in his current condition, but Sparks eventually managed to cough out “Whatifyoudidn'tchoose?”

Red raised an eyebrow. 

“You mean, date both of you?”

“Sure, why not? Not gonna lie Red, it's always been the three of us. You been betrothed to Croach since you were a kid, you were ready to have a young'un with me. So why not go for it?”

“Because no man wants to see his girl with another-”

“See, that's the thing. I can't speak for Croach, because I'd get it wrong, given how particular he is about these things, but the only thing I ever had against you and Croach.... y'know...”

“Copulating, Sparks Nevada”

“Yeah, that, is that I figured it'd just be one or the other. I'd never get to kiss you or anything again because you'd be with Croach. So.... I'm just guessin', but wouldn't it make more sense for you to be with both of us? Like... you love Croach, and that's fine. You love me, that's fine. And you know I'm not the kinda guy who goes for this sorta thing, but can it really be any worse than Red havin' to choose all the time and me an' Croach bickering?”

“It don't work like that, Nevada.”

“Why not? I mean... I think I'm still drunk from last night, but point stands, why are we arguing about who you choose when you can choose both of us? Makes sense to me. Croach? What do you think?”

Croach fiddled with one of his antennae. “So The Red Plains Rider would be in a relationship with both of us, should she agree to this arrangement?”

“Sure.”

“Then what of us, Sparks Nevada? Would we also be in a romantic relationship? Would we both be present during copulation? Would-”

“Guys, I don't mean to be ornery, but I feel awful right now for a million reasons, the main one bein' Space Rotgut. Nevada, can I go back to your space futon?”

“Can I j-”

“Don't even think of it.”

“Alright. Fine.”

“Does that mean that you wish-”

“You neither, Croach.”

“Then I shall remain nearby.”

Red dragged herself out of her seat and shuffled back to the space futon, leaving Sparks alone with a curiously quiet Croach. After a few moments, Sparks drummed his fingers on the table. 

“I get it, Croach. You're mad at me.”

“I lack the capacity to be mad, Sparks Nevada. I am, however, feeling the human emotion designated disappointment.”

“Jeez. Now this is like that breakfast with my parents.”

“I fail to see how the situations could be similar.”

“Never mind.”

Croach stood up. 

“You goin'?”

Nothing. Croach walked over to Sparks, and gripped his chin firmly. There was a moment of silence as Croach seemed to search his face for something that human senses couldn't detect. It occurred to Sparks that he had never had any trouble making direct eye contact with his friend, despite the marjun's lack of discernible pupils. 

“Croach, what are you doing to my face?” Croach released his grip. 

“The features of your face are very different from those of The Red... Red. Sparks Nevada.”

“Like to hope so, what with her bein' a different gender an' all...”

“I am under onus to you for not realising the differing facial structures of humans, Sparks Nevada. To one of my twenty eight senses, you all look very similar.”

“That's just ignorant.”

“Did you not say the same thing of my tribe when you first arrived, Sparks Nevada?”

“No! I- wait, did I?”

“Yes. Specifically, you addressed Klindolf the Bell Unringer as Croach the Tracker, and, when corrected, you said Sorry, you Marjuns kinda look all the same to-”

“Oh.” Sparks considered this for a moment. “Jeez. That... that was shitty of me.”

“No. It was one of your finest moments.”

Sparks smiled in spite of himself. “Was that sarcasm, Croach?”

“I have not learned nothing from human interaction, Sparks Nevada.”

Sparks ran his fingers through his currently somewhat untidy hair. “Well, guess I got marshalin' to do. That paperwork ain't doin' itself.”

“Sparks Nevada, you are in no condition to be undertaking law enforcement, as I believe you to be still under the influence-”

“Yeah, well, who else is gonna? Better a marshal under the influence than no marshal at all.”

“I will undertake marshal duties today. I suggest that you return to your home, sleep, and complete your paperwork when your eyes are able to focus.”

Sparks rested his forehead on the cool tabletop. “You're somethin' else, Croach.”

“You pronounced my name correctly.”

“Yeah, I- wait, really? Anyway, I wanna thank you. You'd be right to be pissed, and you're doing my job for me. Croach, look, I'm sorry. I'll fix this. I don't wanna lose Red, but I don't want you to either.” He stood up, feeling as though the room tilted slightly. “Hey, you wanna... like... hug or somethin'?”

“I appreciate your offer of the human act of hugging, Sparks Nevada, but I must focus on my work.”

“'K. Fine. Thanks, though.” Sparks laid a clumsy hand on Croach's shoulder. “We'll be OK. All of us. Make sure Red drinks enough water, OK?”

“Of course.”

Sparks removed his hand, and was surprised to feel Croach catch his wrist. The feeling of Croach's mouth pressed against his was equally unexpected, and yet, felt as though it should have been there in the first place. Nothing else seemed to exist until Croach pulled away in alarm, and proceeded to stare down at his shamefully covered feet. 

“So....”

“I am under onus to you for my inappropriate actions, Sparks Nevada.”

“Nah, c'mon, Croach-”

“You should rest. You have paperwork that requires completing later, and I will not undertake that aspect of your life. As I have said, I am-”

“Croach the Tracker, not Croach the Filer. Yeah, I get it.”

Sparks didn't even remember getting back to his house in the end. He slumped fully-clothed on the bed, and slept. When he woke, it was evening.


End file.
